


only fools

by hellhoundsprey



Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: FTM Sam Winchester, Skinny Dipping, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: The week-long heat turned the stench of duck shit to something haunting—and yet, the body of water has an undeniable allure.2020 kink bingo square 01: skinny dipping
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602964
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	only fools

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TransSoftboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransSoftboy/gifts).



The water is warm, even warmer than the air, and it shouldn’t be. Not this late at night, in a world of black and blue.

Dean emerges with a splutter and shakes his shaggy hair like a dog. More splatters hit Sam, all the way to the edge of the pond.

“Come on!”

Sam clutches his elbows and the corners of his mouth. “Nah, I’m fine.”

Dean’s raised eyebrows are beacons. New moon means no highlights on the calming-again water or Dean’s Sam-knows-they’re-burnt shoulders.

The week-long heat turned the stench of duck shit to something haunting—and yet, the body of water has an undeniable allure.

“Dude,” he says. “Stop being a bitch.”

Sam’s heart is racing up against the roof of his mouth, rabbit-feet. His measly dinner of cold canned pasta gets strangled to hell somewhere in his nervous guts.

Dean seduces, “It’s great,” and swims around, not closer to Sam, who is highly aware of the boxer shorts inside the jeans left behind a few feet away from him. “It’s warm. Not too warm, though.”

Sam hears, superfluously, unnervedly, “Nobody’s watching, man.”

If he had night vision, would he feel safe in the dark?

The knife in his pocket doesn’t help with that, never really did.

It’s not fair.

Sam’s cooking brain doesn’t know if it’s elated or more furious at the sight of Dean covering both his eyes, dramatically announcing how he’s not gonna look either, _ooh, he can’t see_ , and honestly, Sam is sick of sweating his ass off.

He rips his belt undone and toed out of his sneakers by the time his jeans hit the ground, and he refuses to think past the heat taking over his face and yanks his shorts down, too.

Sprint, sprint sprint, flying, splash.

Black, warm masses of water around him, surrounding him, carrying him—he kicks his legs to breach the surface.

He doesn’t feel like melting alive for the first time in days in this goddamn Californian heat.

“Was that so hard?”

Dean grunts at the gush of water Sam sloshes into his face. He hooks his finger into the collar of Sam’s tee nevertheless.

“You forgot something.”

Sam gives another shove to the water, right into his brother’s shit-eating grin.

Underwater, Sam’s toes grazes Dean’s shin. Their breaths hit the surface, bounce back into their faces.

“You just wanna see ’em.”

“Pf. Not much to see anyway.”

This time, Dean retorts the water assault.

It goes back and forth for a while with growing hysteria, widening grins on both sides. Sam almost manages to dunk his brother underwater, but they both know it’s only because Dean lets him. Sam’s been shooting lengthwise, but Dean’s packed on _pounds_. It’s always so painfully obvious after not seeing him a couple of days—a week—two weeks.

The water gushes up into his nose as Sam’s getting submerged without much mercy. It stings and he flails, kicks and punches, and he hits skin somewhere. If Dean wanted, he could drown him, easy as that.

Dean’s dad-smile greets Sam above the surface. The non-glint of the amulet dangling from his neck, afloat. Sam catches up on breath and shakes soaked strands of hair out of his eyes as best as he can.

Sam gets engulfed by one of those arms, tugged close, still panting for breath. His heart is kicking him stupid.

He warns, “You’re gonna get us killed,” but Dean just clicks his tongue, shakes his head; “Nope.”

Sam gulps half water, half air. Gets a strong-strong leg between his thighs, maybe on accident. Dean’s cock is a solid line of heat digging into his hip, the soft dent above his pubic bone.

Dean licks his lip as he somehow manages to keep them both afloat while not-so-dry humping, and Sam huffs, their tits squished together and if it wasn’t for his t-shirt, they’d be skin on skin, all the way. Somehow, this is worse.

They’ll stink of this pond for days.

Dean asks, “You wanna head back yet?”

“Just another minute.”


End file.
